


destiny

by avulle



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 07:01:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4425896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avulle/pseuds/avulle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mistake is made.<br/>Two souls, intended for greatness and madness each, get confused.<br/>One is born two years early—<br/>The other, two years late.<br/>Toph Beifong is born sighted.<br/>Azula is born blind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	destiny

A mistake is made.

Two souls, intended for greatness and madness each, get confused.

One is born two years early—

The other, two years late.

Toph Beifong is born sighted.

Azula is born blind.

 

Ozai, Prince of the Fire Nation, second in line to the throne, does not love his daughter.

This is not surprising.

She is a tool to him, just like his son, his wife, and his brother.

(Just like his country, his father, and his flames.)

His daughter, however, he not only does not love, but dislikes with a particular intensity.

Because unlike his son, his wife and his brother (unlike his country, his father and his flames), she is born useless.

(She is born blind.)

When his son’s flames only emerge late, and then only emerge weakly, he dislikes her all the more, for failing in her role as his backup _option_.

Ozai is a proper Fire Nation man, however, steeped in the highest of traditions, and so he does what is only proper.

He turns his face away.

 

Lao Beifong, merchant of the Earth Kingdom, the single wealthiest man in Gao Ling, loves his daughter a great deal.

She is everything he could have ever expected his daughter to be.

She is polite, well-mannered, and silently brilliant.

She reminds him a great deal of his wife, who embodies all that an Earth Kingdom woman can be.

The older she grows, the more and more proud of her becomes.

She grows from a pretty baby to a pretty toddler to a pretty child.

She plays well with other children, eternally gracious and gentle.

She does well in her studies, receiving nothing but unadulterated praise from her tutors.

She even earthbends perfectly—with a gentle hand, exactly as elegant and weak as she should be.

He, however, is not so enamored with her to not notice the pain that is released in her wake.

The children who always cry after she whispers into their ears.

The servants who pale when she enters a room.

His own guards, who break their ankles to weak spots of Earth.

Lao, however, treasures his daughter, who is perfect in all the ways that matter, so he does the only thing he can.

He turns his face away.

 

Ursa, noblewoman made Princess, loves her daughter.

She is bullheaded, and has a fiery, hot temper that is suited to her lineage, if not her station, and Ursa finds these traits effortlessly endearing.

As she grows older, Ursa discovers that she is also wonderfully kind and generous, if always coarse, and Ursa considers herself blessed for having two such wonderful children.

Ozai does not acknowledge her existence, keeping his face eternally turned away, and Ursa is glad.

She can trust that her husband will not poison her daughter, like he so tries to poison her son.

When her daughter first firebends, she lights their lamps with blue flames.

It is beautiful, and Ursa is once again endeared.

Her daughter, emboldened by praise, begins to play with fire, making it dance as she twirls and spins on tiny little feet.

It is adorable, the most precious thing Ursa has ever seen, and, as the days go on, and her daughter fails to spin into any walls, dancing around the feet of the servants as if she can see through her milky, golden eyes, she swallows her unease, and does the only thing she can.

She turns her face away.

 

Poppy Beifong, peasant made noblewoman, the envy of all who perceive her, does not love her daughter.

There is something about her, she understands, that is wrong.

Even as an infant, Poppy can feel it, the wrongness that hangs everywhere around her.

Her husband, however, does not understand.

He cooes and fawns over their daughter because she is so objectively perfect.

And so, ever the proper Earth Kingdom woman, wife and mother, Poppy disregards her misgivings.

She does her best to love the daughter she so despises, and does not so much as whisper of her fears, in case speaking the words will make them true.

When her daughter grows old enough to have proper emotions, capable of walking, talking, and creating coherent sentences, her green eyes grow cold and calculated.

Whenever they are alone together, her daughter’s eyes come to be filled with disdain and disgust, so Poppy does the only thing she can.

She turns her face away.

 

Destiny, so many carefully constructed coincidences, attempts to reform itself to the world it has been forced to acknowledge.

It constricts around the two who do not belong, attempting to fit old tragedies to new souls, attempting to force them back to the paths that their bodies should have walked.

The souls, however, refuse to be so bound.

They dig their fingers into the fabric of destiny, and when it tightens around them, trying to bend them to its will, it tears under their fingers, and they walk free.

 

Iroh, Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, first in line to the throne, loves his niece a great deal.

She is bright and fiery, and everything a firebender should be.

She bends not out of hate and anger, but out of joy and elation.

(She is nothing like her father.)

When he is not at war, she will seek him out to play with him, looking up at him with blind golden eyes that never fail to meet his own, and he loves her like a daughter.

She will climb all over him, standing over his paunch and laughing raucously about his fatness.

She will collapse onto him, grinning at his face from too-close, and fist her fingers in his sideburns, pulling and pushing and playing with his face.

He lets her because she shines when she smiles.

When his son dies, and, upon returning in shame, he finds not only his father dead, but his brother, sister, niece and nephew dead with him, he does the only thing he can.

He weeps, unable to turn his face away.

(In the ashes, they find a fire-scarred stone doll beside a tiny skeleton charred to ash, and Iroh screams in agony.)

 

Mai, noblegirl made faceless doll, hates everything.

She hates her father.

She hates her mother.

She hates the Fire Nation, she hates the Earth Kingdom.

She hates the Water Tribes, and she hates the long-dead Air Nomads.

She is defined entirely by her hatred, and it is her singular defining feature.

When, on her third day in the colonies, a girl appears on her father’s property—feet sunk shin deep into the ground, with a hood over her head and pale lips stretched across bright teeth in the shadow of its cowl—she does the only thing she can.

She stares, unable to turn her face away.

(The fire inherent in her blood sings, and Mai finally finds something to love other than hate.)

 

Katara, girl made mother, the only waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe, loves and hates in equal measure.

She loves her brother, although he is a fool.

She loves Aang, although he is not all she wishes he was.

She loves her tribe, although they fear her, and all that she represents.

She loves the world, even, and wishes she had the strength to heal all of its scars away.

She, in turn, hates the Southern Raiders, because they killed her mother.

She, in turn, hates Yon Rha, because he did not take her instead.

She, in turn, hates the Fire Nation, for the poison they spread with their very touch.

She, in turn, hates the Earth Kingdom and the Northern Water Tribe, because they did not come to her mother’s aid.

And so, when, en route to the Northern Water Tribe and in the middle of Earth Kingdom, she happens upon a figure dressed entirely in green, dancing with blue flames, a singular being who manages to at once embody all that she hates, and have the indecency to look so happy while doing it, she becomes angry.

Angry like she never has been angry before, clouding her vision and clouding her mind, causing her to act as she knows she should not.

She attacks, blindly and without restraint.

But when her water whip evaporates in the face of blazing blue flames, and her entire water pouch is boiled away in the blink of an eye, and Katara is left defenseless against a firebender who is grinning with anticipation—she does the only thing she can.

She closes her eyes, and waits for the end.

(She is instead rewarded with a raucous cackle, and a _That all you got, sugar queen?_ )

 

Ty Lee, noblegirl made spy and diplomat, loves everything.

She loves the sun and she loves the sky.

She loves people and she loves animals.

She loves her country, and she loves the world.

But Ty Lee loves _fighting_ most of all.

Because even though she's slow and silly and never quite understands what's going on around her, she is _good_ at fighting.

She is the _best_ at fighting.

She defeats firebending masters three times her age with her bare hands, learns techniques that should take decades in mere weeks, and she always learns from her mistakes.

So when the Fire Lord comes to her, and smiles his soft smile and asks for her help because he needs someone so filled with love who can also fight without fire, and befriend those who would hate her, she says yes.

Ty Lee goes to Kyoshi island, then, and finds new things to love.

Ty Lee finds that she loves the Kyoshi warriors, and that she loves Kyoshi island, and that she especially loves how everyone always has time for a fight.

(That she loves how no one cheats, blowing fire from their lips, or making the earth give beneath her feet.)

She stays and plays and fights and the Fire Lord sends her letters that tell her she is amazing, that she is doing her country proud, and Ty Lee loves everything all the more.

But then one day a girl, tiny and wrapped in a heavy black-hooded robe, attacks her out of nowhere—the best fighter she's ever seen, sliding effortlessly across the earth with her feet buried in the ground—and it's wonderful and perfect and everything Ty Lee has ever wanted, so when the girl tackles Ty Lee to the ground, finally baring her tiny, pretty little face, split into a manic grin, saying that they could rule the world together, Ty Lee does the only thing she can.

(She falls in love) She says yes.

(She works out the details later.)

 

History marches on, clattering further off the rails with every step.

The single raindrop—the single ripple—spreads, lacerating the delicate fabric of coincidence wherever it goes, remaking the world in its own image.

At the center of it all are two girls who are not yet women, marching through the jungle of uncertainty to their own beat, forging their own way according to their own whims and desires.

Everywhere they go, they leave new paths in their wake.

 

Sokka, child made man, boy made chief, loves slowly, and trusts slower still.

So when Katara brings back a girl with straight black hair, milky golden eyes, and deathly pale skin, he does not trust her.

When she is followed by a boy who is her mirror in (almost) every way, he trusts her even less.

But, day after day, week after week, she stays with them, and does not betray them.

Every night, she laughs and eats loudly, alternately undercooking and overcooking their meat with bright blue flames that are never as wild as they look.

Every day, she tries to teach Aang firebending by throwing fire at his feet, while her brother talks about inner peace and finding balance with a calmly burning flame in the palm of his hand.

Every time they are attacked, and they fight together, Sokka distrusts them a little less, and he loves them a little more.

So when, late one night, after everyone has gone to bed, he hears them speaking to each other in hushed tones and calling each other not _Song_ and _Lee_ , the fatherless Earth Kingdom twins, but _Azula_ and _Zuko_ , the lost Fire Nation royal siblings, he does the only thing he can.

He rolls over, and goes back to sleep.

 

Zhao, lieutenant turned commander turned captain, loves himself.

He loves his own strength, his own power, and the scroll he has hidden beneath his bedroll.

He believes he is truly among the finest his country has to offer—soldier, citizen, and scholar.

He has trained under Jeong Jeong, won unwinnable battles beyond number, and he has never once been truly beaten.

(He is a captain) He will rise again.

So when he runs across a very particular girl, on a mission through the Earth Kingdom, he takes advantage.

He takes the kidnapped girl into custody, and forces her kidnapper to step out on to the earth.

(Her right foot is warped and twisted, and she limps when she walks.)

He is Captain Zhao (He is Commander Zhao), so he does not relax until he has both of them (all three of them) on the hard metal of his ship.

(Until he has two thirds of them beneath the hull.)

The kidnapper leans heavily against the metal wall of his ship, and glares at him with green eyes filled with hatred.

She slams her fist into the wall beside her over, and over again, so he can only respond—

_You might think you're the greatest earthbender in the world, but even you can't bend metal._

She bares her tiny set of teeth at him, unfurls her broken foot, and slams her fist deep into the metal wall of his ship.

Her no-longer-broken foot slides effortlessly across the hard metal of his ship, her entire body twists, and she punches.

The metal wall warps and twists and follows in her wake, so Zhao does the only thing he can.

He dies.

(His men die with him.)

 

Yue, girl born to die, loves her tribe.

She loves her family, she loves her people—and part of her even loves her betrothed, even though he represents the worst her people have to offer.

She knows that she will die to save them, although she does not know when or how it will happen.

So when the avatar appears at their gates with not just a female waterbender at his side, but two firebenders who claim to be refugees but clearly are not, and a great many people protest as loudly as they can, she does what she knows is right.

She lets them in.

Her betrothed protests, but her father does not, and they are allowed within the gates.

When Pakku refuses to train Katara, rejects the avatar, and spits on Katara’s name, the firebending girl’s words echo across the ice ( _I challenge you to an Agni Kai_ ), and Yue regrets her decision.

She regrets it all the more when Pakku accepts it, her father holds his soldiers back, and blue fire and ice reduce their greatest plaza to rubble.

She does not know what she feels when the fight ends suddenly with a Pai Sho tile burned to ash, the girl’s face twisted in disgust, and a spat— _You disgust me_.

Later that day, Sokka approaches her once more ( _You're not getting married to your people!_ ), and she cries for the first time in a very long time.

When they leave the next day, because not even the word of a princess blessed by the moon spirit could undo a melted plaza and the first-hand sight of the rage of fire and lightning, Yue does the only thing she can.

She cries, because she cannot go with them.

(Sokka turns away, but his shoulders shake, and she wishes that crying silently, apart but simultaneously, was not the most intimate thing they would ever do.)

 

Jet, the leader of the rat valley pack, hates the Fire Nation.

When he hears that the avatar has returned, he is momentarily indescribably hopeful—believing, for half a moment, that the Fire Nation will finally get what's coming to them.

But then he hears of the twins he has taken to carrying with him, and loses the only hope he has held in a very long time.

He does so violently, like everything he has ever done.

He celebrates it with a creatively flooded village that houses traitors, and silently toasts to another hollow victory.

When he goes to a cliff for one last look, he finds a hooded figure staring down upon the ruins of the village, feet buried shin deep in the earth.

He is instantly familiar with her (the footless wanderer—kidnapper and killer of the children of their enemies), so he knows she will understand.

_Beautiful, isn't it?_

There is an instant of hesitation, but then her lips curl into a smirk, and she responds—

_Oh, yes._

That night he wakes bound in iron, staring into cold, hard green eyes.

By his sides are his men, and within his captor's hands is a long, thin knife that shines brightly in the firelight.

_Beautiful, isn’t it?_

Her lips twist up into a mockery of an innocent smile.

He opens his mouth to protest—

(To say anything, do anything, to stop the murder in her eyes—)

But then she collapses at his feet.

In her place are the two girls he had always thought were dead.

( _I'm sorry, but I can't let you do this_.)

The spy picks up the limp form of his captor, and his captor garbles out words he can only barely understand, struggling weakly by twisting her torso back and forth, her head lolling down to glare at him with eyes filled with hate ( _You don't understand, he tried to—_ )

( _I do, shh._ )

The spy does not once look at him, her eyes turned down to the weakly struggling form in her arms, but the child of a warlord’s dead, blank eyes never leave him.

( _Just because we don’t want her to kill you doesn’t mean you aren’t going to die._ )

After they have left, he does the only thing he can.

He waits, because his bonds are unbreakable.

(Nobody comes looking.)

 

In the wake of the two who are but should not be, people begin to walk.

Protected from the harsh uncertainties of the jungle, they deviate from their carefully constructed rails, leaving the trains of what should be for the freedom of what could be.

With each step and with each deviation, the great fabric of coincidence loses integrity, and the jungle of uncertainty begins to overgrow the rails of the known.

People begin to walk the jungle of their own volition.

 

Pakku, idealist turned cynic, trusts little, hates vehemently and loves not at all.

He did, once upon a time, but does no longer.

(He no longer sees anything in the world worth loving.)

It is among the many things that he and his closest friend disagree upon.

(That he and the current Fire Lord have never quite come to terms on.)

So when a girl appears before him, asking to be trained, he refuses her.

And when he discovers the avatar was going behind his back to train her, he rejects him with her.

And, finally, when he is faced with the rage of lightning and fire and a screamed _I challenge you to an Agni Kai_ , he smiles, and accepts.

(He does not expect do anything except win.)

When she lies him flat on his back, blade of blue fire inches from his face as she shakes him by the lapels of his coat and hisses—

_Go on, old man._

_Tell me I’m weak_.

Her milky golden eyes are crazed with the madness that so haunts her line, and Pakku fully believes that he is going to die.

But then his White Lotus tile falls from the folds in his robes, and she drops him onto the ice.

After a long moment, she produces an identical tile from the depths of her robes, and then throws its ashes into his face with a sneer.

( _You disgust me._ )

The next day, his princess weeps as she presses a vial of their most sacred water into the Fire Nation princess's hands, and he does the only thing he can.

He writes a letter to his oldest friend, and informs him that his beloved niece and nephew yet draw breath.

(He does not tell him how he knows.)

 

Aang, child made Avatar made hope for the world, loves and trusts easier than he should.

It has been to him both boon and not—yielding to him both allies beyond number—and nearly killing him more often than he would like to admit.

It is what made the betrayal of his elders so great, the knowledge of the new world so crushing.

( _Kuzon_.)

More than any of his other traits, it is this one upon which he is the most divided.

(It is this one that no matter what, he knows he will never be able to change.)

So when he meets a small earthbender, with a heavy green cowl obscuring her face, and feet sunk shin deep into the earth, he loves and trusts her immediately.

With her, he knows, he will finally have a master for all four elements.

He will be able to defeat the Fire Lord, and return balance to the world.

When he asks her for her help, she throws her head back, baring her face and laughing a high, light laugh.

She is the very image of his vision—but then she drops her head again, and her face falls back into shadows.

 _Okay_.

Her lips curl into a cruel smirk.

 _I’ll teach you earthbending_.

She leaves him bleeding, half-buried in the earth, with his eyes still half aglow.

He can feel the abyss rising to engulf him, and he does the only thing he can.

(He accepts his fate) He loses hope.

(He opens his eyes to Katara’s weeping face, back twisted and scarred but whole, and he regains it, once again.)

 

Suki, girl turned orphan turned leader, loves fiercely, and with all of her heart.

She loves her Kyoshi warriors, she loves Kyoshi island, and she loves Kyoshi, most of all.

She would die to protect any of them.

She even comes to love the pretty little Fire Nation girl for her quick fists and stumbling words, even though she is sent to spy and deceive them by the person she is taught she should hate most.

(She does not love the small Earth Kingdom girl that comes to take her away.)

When the new avatar comes to her village, with a fool and a waterbender in tow, she even loves them—the avatar for the woman he once was, the fool for the woman he could be, and the waterbender for the woman she would yet become.

She does not love the girl they return with, three months later, who is too rough with her words, and too free with her fire in a town made of wood.

(She does not trust the eyes she has the experience to recognize as _golden_ and not _amber_.)

But the avatar, the fool (the man), and the waterbender seem to trust her and her silent twin, so she welcomes them regardless.

When the firebender sees the not-quite-as-good-replacement the Fire Lord sent for their lost comrade, she laughs raucously, and Suki grinds her teeth.

But then when the firebender turns her head away, and mutters, _Fire Nation citizen on Kyoshi Island_ — _it looks like Uncle’s dream can come true, after all_ , Suki does the only thing she can.

She hopes, just a little.

(When they leave, two weeks later, she leaves with them.)

 

Bumi, King of Omashu, trusts the earth.

It was the earth that showed him to the badgermoles, when he was too weak to stand on his own.

It was the earth that told him to speak to the strange boy with the airbending tattoos, who did not quite walk upon the earth.

It was the earth that showed him the path to his crown, and the earth that told him that the world would need him as king, and not just as peasant.

It was the earth that revealed to him the lies that were spoken from the lips of his most trusted advisors, and it was the earth that revealed the cracks in their masks, how to best bring their sins to light.

Therefore, when his oldest friend appeared before him once more, and the earth tells him to test him, he listens.

And when his oldest friends returns again, begging Bumi to teach him earthbending, and the earth tells him to refuse, he listens.

But then, when a young girl appears before him, her spirit a bastardized marriage of fire and earth, with her face hidden by a deep cowl, feet buried shin deep in the earthen floor of his crown room and flanked on either side by two girls who could not be anything but Fire Nation—the earth is silent.

The girl challenges him ( _They say you’re the greatest earthbender in the world_ ), and the earth still does not speak.

( _Prove it_.)

He accepts because his guards are nowhere to be found, and he doesn’t want them to get hurt.

The girl is exactly as good as she claims that she is—by far the fastest and cleverest earthbender he has ever seen.

(He defeats her by standing still.)

But looking, upon her, leaning heavily against one of the two girls she brought with her, rage and hate and murder in her eyes, he finally understands the reason for the earth’s silence.

(He almost understands the reason for the fire that doesn’t quite burn inside of her.)

The earth finally begins to speak, so he does the only thing he can.

(He listens) He makes her king.

(The avatar needs a earthbending teacher, and Omashu needs a king.)

 

Destiny finally realizes its mistake.

With every step, it notices, the souls step further from their old tracks, and closer to one another’s.

With every step, their souls move towards their predestined course, returning to madness and greatness, each.

Coincidence begins to fall into place, and the jungle recedes once more.

The delicate fabric of destiny begins to reform.

 

Wan Shi Tong, knower of ten thousand things, hates and loves both humans and war in equal measure.

There is little, he understands, that generates new knowledge as quickly as war.

(There is little, he understands, that generates new knowledge as quickly as humans do.)

There is little, he in turn also understands, that destroys old knowledge as quickly as war.

(There is little, he in turn also understands, that destroys old knowledge as quickly as humans do.)

As the world cycles through long eras of war and of peace, he brings his library to the physical world, sinks it, and then returns it to the spirit world.

He does this over, and over, and over again, and believes it to be an eternal cycle—that he will do it for all eternity, just as all books are written, read, forgotten, and destroyed.

But then a girl who is of neither earth nor fire appears before him, and asks for his help.

( _I am Azula, princess of the Fire Nation_.)

( _Help me save my people from themselves._ )

Her friends are in his planetarium, searching for new and novel ways to wage war, but she stands before him, asking for his help to make peace.

Her milky eyes are blind, and his knowledge is nothing to her.

She begs him to allow her to take his books to the outside world, and begs for him to tell her that which she needs to know, and he refuses her.

( _If you truly want peace_ , _help us!_ )

In his planetarium, her friends spin dials, and search for the time at which their enemy is at its most vulnerable.

( _At the very least_ , _allow someone to enter the library in my place._ )

( _Someone who will understand the treasure of your knowledge, like I am unable._ )

If she is deceiving him, then she is by far the best liar he has ever seen.

( _Let my uncle enter in my place_.)

For the first time in ten thousand years, Wan Shi Tong feels hope.

So, looking down into her milky golden eyes, he does the only thing he can.

He acquiesces.

(The next day, the spire of his library punctures the courtyard of the royal palace, and Wan Shi Tong welcomes the lord of fire into his library.)

 

Long Feng, Grand Secretariat, de facto leader of Ba Sing Se, hates war and loves power.

He has no particular reason for either of these things—no overly tragic past, no great wrong he wishes to undo.

He just does.

And the world seems more than willing to accommodate him.

So when the young new King of Omashu comes to visit, complete with her adorable entourage of little girls who like to think they are warriors, he cannot help but think that destiny has once again delivered unto him a miracle.

(Lake Laogai is always accepting new recruits.)

The new King of Omashu is exactly as his spies have reported her—haughty, indulgent, and with an insatiable lust for power.

He offers her an alliance, and she accepts it without hesitation.

(He smiles into his tea, knowing that she is also smiling into hers.)

(This is his game, and divine fortune have not yet abandoned him.)

They carefully place their pieces, laying the framework for a coup they both know has no chance of failure.

(For a betrayal they both think the other is ignorant to.)

Then she offhandedly mentions the Joo Dee to him, and, as a final measure of trust, he shows her to Lake Laogai, knowing that she will understand.

He shows her the room of the Joo Dees ( _I’m Joo Dee. Welcome to Ba Sing Se._ ), and her smile tells him he was right.

 _Oh, yes_.

She smiles up at him, and he almost regrets his decision to betray her.

(There is still time, he knows, and he can perhaps rethink his decision.)

But then one of her companions begins to shake, and, just like that, the girl’s manic glee is gone.

( _Mai?_ )

Her companion stumbles away from the balcony, knives clattering to the ground, face twisted into a mixture of disgust and fear.

( _Mai, what’s wrong?_ )

Then the girl follows her companion’s gaze to the assorted Joo Dee beneath them, and turns back to her companion.

Once more, and back again.

( _Oh_.)

( _I see_.)

The last thing Long Feng sees are the stoic faces of his Dai Li, as they silently watch the girl slit his throat.

 

Jeong Jeong The Deserter hates both his flames and his country.

He hates what they have forced him to do, and he hates that they have allowed him to do it.

He often wishes he was born a waterbender, to the Water Tribes, so he could bend out of compassion, and fight only to protect.

(So he could heal, instead of hurt.)

After his desertion, he comforts himself with his new tribe, and does not once make plans to return.

(Not even when he has heard that it was Iroh who succeeded Azulon, and not Ozai.)

(Not even when he has heard that Iroh’s offensives grow weaker by the day.)

When the avatar appears within his camp, with both the rightful King of Omashu and the Royal siblings in tow, he does not change his mind.

He does not even change his mind when the prince and the avatar dance with their flames, bending soft, orange flames with laughs on their lips.

But then the princess appears before him, her steps true against the uneven ground beneath them.

Her blind eyes stare into his own, and with her every movement, she shows that fire can be something greater than destruction.

( _Our country needs you_.)

So when, from the depths of her deep, green robes, she produces a long, thin scroll bearing the seal of Fire Lord, he does the only thing he can.

(He changes his mind) He opens it.

(It says exactly what he thought it would say.)

 

Kuei, fifty-second Earth King and ignorant figurehead, loves much, and hates little.

It is not a measure of his greatness, but rather a testament to his ignorance.

His people are enslaved by a man who wields power by his hand, and the world is crumbling all around him, but he smiles deliriously and claims all is well.

The first time he realizes his mistake is the last day of his monarchy.

(The first time he realizes his mistake is the last hour of his monarchy.)

He is suddenly buried up to his neck in the earth, as it wraps tightly around him, squeezing the life from his lungs.

( _Don’t_.)

He raises his eyes to his attacker, and finally remembers to scream for his guards.

(They stare down at him with eyes that are hard and uncaring.)

( _Why? I know you let me kill Jet._ )

( _Let me kill him, too_.)

Before him is the King of Omashu, her green robes blood-stained, and her small face twisted in petulance.

(She does not so much as glance in his direction as he screams.)

( _No._ )

He struggles, but cannot escape.

(I _killed Jet._ )

( _I told Ty Lee I would inform the police of his location, but did not._ )

There is a pause, and the girl-King of Omashu’s expression twists into an expression of innocent anticipation.

(She peeks up at her companion through long bangs, a shy smile on her lips.)

( _So—_ )

( _You’ll kill him for me?_ )

Her companion’s eyes turn down to him, and her amber eyes chill him to the bone.

( _Yes_.)

( _Let him up, take your rightful throne._ )

The girl-King of Omashu (the fifty-third Earth King) lets out a light laugh, and skips past him, snagging his crown as she passes him.

It is only as she sits that he is released from the earth.

( _Come with me_.)

He is led from the room, into a dark passageway he does not recognize because it is used exclusively by the servants.

( _If you ever call yourself Earth King again, I will find you—)_

 _(And I will kill you_.)

A door opens in the wall before him, and Kuei does the only thing he can.

(He enters) He leaves his country behind.

(Bosco is waiting for him.)

 

History marches on, the thick fabric of destiny and coincidence growing stronger with each step.

It winds its way around the limbs of the souls that are but should not be, and begins to direct their movements.

The jungle of uncertainty recedes further still, and the abandoned rails of destiny come into view.

 

Toph Beifong, merchantschild turned Earth King, loves fire.

She loves that fire always beckons to her, burns the chill from her bones, and whispers hateful nothings into her ear.

(Tells her to burn the world to the ground.)

She loves the way it burns in the heart and souls of her companions, the way it shines through them with its passion, its love, and its hate.

So when the Fire Nation princess appears before her, having left her companions in a distant corner of her palace, and the fire that has always burned in her soul flares brightly, she lets it run free.

Blue flames pour from her fists, lightning winds its way around her soul, and _Azula_ laughs a laugh of blue fire.

The earth erupts all around her, attempting to throw her from her feet as it never has before.

The Fire Nation princess emerges from behind her blackened shield, and the earth _Azula_ has sown into her robes attempts to bind her to its will, so she tears them from her with flaming fingers.

Her metal wristbands curl up and around her arms, but melt under her flaming fingers, and, for the first time _Azula_ lets lightning run loose from her fingers.

It strikes against hard stone that shatters and splinters under her barrage.

She leaps, high and light and fast, twisting and turning through the air, and the Fire Nation princess’s eyes do not follow her.

 _Azula_ delights in her new power, and she imagines blood running through the streets of Ba Sing Se—

The entire world in ash, at her feet.

(Her companions weeping at her sides for all that she has stolen from them.)

 _Azula_ stops, and Toph allows herself to be encased in earth.

The earth cools the raging flames of her hatred, and wraps all around her, keeping her steady, and safe.

The coffin of earth around her crumbles under her hand, once again hers to control, and the last dregs of the fire within her soul fade into nothing.

(Toph leaves the Fire Nation princess in the hallway, and returns to her companions.)

 

Azula, firstborn daughter of Ozai turned agent for peace, loves earth.

Long before she learned to see, it was only earth that remained true beneath her feet, that would always support her, and that would never move while she wasn’t able to look.

She loves the way that it holds the world stable, and has tempered the rage of her land, keeping it from the reducing the world to ash.

So when she arrives in Ba Sing Se in order to simultaneously pray for peace and prepare for war, and feels the solid pull of the earth like she never has before, she accepts it.

She allows herself to see through the metal soles of her boots, seeing through the resonance of the earth, instead of through the heat in the air all around her.

After the Earth King has sneered at the Avatar’s demands ( _I have no qualms with the Fire Nation_ ) while simultaneously bringing Azula’s every dream to fruition ( _There is no war in Ba Sing Se_ ), she follows the earth’s guidance, and finds the Earth King deep within her own palace.

Unseen to her blind eyes, the forest green of the Earth King's eyes burns golden.

Fire explodes all around her, but the earth curls itself up, and shields her from danger.

The earth pulls at the bright points of the earth sown deep into the Earth King’s robes, and the Earth King’s fireblasts are thrown wide.

When the robe is in flaming tatters all around them, the earth pulls at the metal the Earth King has wrapped around her wrists, and, _Toph_ , once again, does not need to move.

She stands still and the earth leaps up before her as the deafening boom of lightning cracks through the air.

But then the Earth King vanishes, and the earth does not protect her because it is as blind as she.

The Earth King lands behind her, and _Toph_ wraps the Earth King in her own element.

The world explodes back into color, and, invisible to her blind eyes, Azula’s eyes fade back into milky gold.

(Azula leaves the Earth King in the hallway, and returns to her companions.)

 

The great spirits reassert their hold over their new children, burning away the element that should no longer be.

The rails of destiny shatter beneath the feet of the souls that are, and should be.

When the thick fabric of destiny, certainty and coincidence, attempts to bind them to its will once more, it is torn beyond repair.

The two souls enter the jungle of uncertainty, once again.

 


End file.
